


No Mountain High Enough

by katmarajade



Series: No Mountain High Enough [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Neville, M/M, Misconceptions, Rescue Missions, pre-pairing, romania - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-16 00:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1324510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katmarajade/pseuds/katmarajade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a Wednesday in November when Charlie Weasley was knocked unconscious by a frightened Welsh Green, dragged across a field, and carried more than eight kilometers through the air until the dragon was able to untangle the tether from her leg.  Then he fell.   No one wanted to go up into the treacherous, wolf-infested Carpathian Mountains to see if he survived.  One man went, and it was the last person anyone expected, especially Charlie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Mountain High Enough

It was a Wednesday in November when Charlie Weasley was knocked unconscious by a frightened Welsh Green, dragged across a field, and carried more than eight kilometers through the air until the dragon was able to untangle the tether from her leg. Then he fell.

Shouts and alarms gathered the Reserve and together they watched in horror as the Englishman they'd come to know and love was wrested away from them and disappeared into the treacherous Carpathians that jutted up fearsomely to the east of the Reserve's secluded locale on the edge of the Transylvanian Plateau. They hung their heads as the Reserve Director declared a rescue mission too dangerous, all aware of the dangers of the Carpathian Mountains that butted up against the Transylvanian Plateau. The terrain was treacherous, the wildlife dangerous, the area wild. It was unsafe, especially as winter teased at the edges of autumn and settled into the highlands, leaving the crests covered in white as proof of its conquest.

The dragon handlers and support staff huddled together in sadness, while one man shook his head at the whole thing and marched off alone. There were mumbles about him, not mourning with the rest. He was an odd duck. New to the reserve, his position as Reserve Herbologist was still taking some getting used to. He kept to himself and had spent most of his first six months at the reserve away from base "communing with nature" or some such rot. He wasn't one of them and made absolutely no effort, even when they'd tried to be friendly at the onset. None of them noticed when he left the safe confines of the base, a supply pack on his shoulders, and twisted into nothing with a sharp crack.

Neville almost twisted his ankle on the landing. One cannot simply Apparate onto a mountain safely. Mountains don't like constancy and are always shifting. The relatively smooth patch he'd remembered from an earlier excursion had recently been covered by rocks and dusted with snow. Not only did the terrain change daily, but the space disturbance and sound of apparition could set off rock slides, avalanches, or other troublesome things. Neville had Apparated as far as he thought safe, still several kilometers from where he guessed Charlie had landed. Catching himself just in time, Neville eyed the rest of the mountain with determination.

The afternoon air was cooling quickly, the brisk mountain breeze a vanguard of the cold autumnal night to come. Neville shifted his pack to rest more comfortably on his back and took his first purposeful stride.

It took him over two hours to navigate the relatively short distance, scrambling over sharp, craggy piles of rock and narrow passes. The mountains here weren't terribly high but they were dangerous, especially with the sun already dipping low in the sky.

Upon reaching the general place he thought Charlie had fallen, Neville began scouring the area and calling out. His shouts became more concerned as the first brushes of twilight painted the sky.

There was a slight movement and a garbled call, which brought Neville rushing over the rocky ground to find a very confused and battered Charlie Weasley.

"Charlie!" Neville shouted, his voice hoarse from hollering and the thin mountain air, but his relief palpable.

"Longbottom … what are you—what's going on?" Charlie winced in pain and seemed unable to settle on a single question.

"The Green panicked and knocked you down. She took off with you still tangled on her tether and dropped you in the mountains."

"And they sent you …" he gasped and tried again, "sent you to rescue me, huh? No offense, but I think I could use a Healer and not a Herbologist. I'm not feeling so hot."

Neville answered in a clipped tone, "They didn't send me. They didn't send anyone. You fell too high in the mountains and too late in the day. It wasn't safe."

"So what are you doing here then?"

"I saw you land. I spent a lot of time up here scouting vegetation and knew the general spot. I thought I might be able to find you before nightfall. Plus, your brother's a friend of mine and he's lost enough of his family."

Charlie grimaced but had the presence of mind to look slightly abashed. He was in no condition to Apparate. His face, which was usually flushed from sun, exertion, and general humour, was chalky and covered in a thick layer of sweat and grime. His leg was obviously broken and from the way he was cradling his right arm, Neville suspected that might be broken as well. Neville worried that Charlie might have further internal injuries as well, but there wasn't much he could do for that at the moment.

"Listen, we need to find shelter. There's no way I can get you out of here tonight." Neville glanced around grimly. There were hundreds of caves in these parts and Neville was sure there must be one close.

A short look around proved him right and there was an opening about 400 meters away. Neville ducked inside to make sure it wasn't already occupied (the wolves were everywhere in these parts) but luck was with them. He spread out the blanket he'd brought and cast a cushioning charm to make it more comfortable. Then he cast a spell to grow the tiny jar of crackling blue flames he carried in his pack to a large blaze.

Hurrying back to where Charlie lay, Neville tried to figure out how best to move him. "Can you move at all?"

Charlie managed to wriggle both sets of toes and fingers, which was a relief to both. "Can you Levitate me over there without killing me?"

Neville shook his head in irritation but snapped, "Yes. Contrary to popular belief on the Reserve, I'm capable of basic spells."

"Sorry, mate. I didn't mean it like that, only …"

"I know. You're all big, tough dragon handlers and I play with plants. I know what you all say. I happen to like plants and I've had enough of living in danger and fearing for my life every moment of every day. I'm only up here as a favor to your director. I much prefer the quiet of England, actually."  
Charlie remained silent and Neville muttered the spells to move Charlie, who managed to stay quiet, though the pain on his face made Neville nearly falter more than once. Several grueling minutes later, Charlie was lying on the blanket inside the cave. Neville dug through his satchel for supplies and began assessing Charlie's injuries more extensively.

Between Neville's observations and Charlie's input, they decided that Charlie had broken his left leg, his right arm below the elbow, and possibly a rib or two. His colour was still pale, but he was looking better after a canteen of water, a slice of bread, a few sips of whiskey, and the warmth of the fire.

"I have some basic medical supplies here," Neville said, surveying the items laid out before him. "We've got some willowbark for tea—it will help if you've got a fever, which you probably do. I've added a bit of belladonna to numb the pain. I have some experience with healing charms and can do basic mending. I can probably do your leg—it looks like a simple fracture and it's still lined up pretty well. I can try the ribs too, but I think the arm has several different spots affected and I don't know if my skills are good enough for that."

"Are you sure you're up to fixing bones? It takes a lot of practice to … " Charlie's voice trailed off at the dark expression that crept over Neville's features.

"I've mended more bones than I ever want to count, Charlie. If you paid the slightest bit of attention, you might notice that there's more to me than bumbling Herbologist. Wars are not fought only on battle fields, you know, and sometimes dragons are a walk in the park compared to humans."

Charlie gave him a nod of assent and continued to watch him curiously, apparently fascinated by this new side to his colleague. Neville took a deep breath, greatly annoyed that he was letting this arrogant, condescending twat get to him like this. Once he'd managed to center himself again, Neville began the slow process of healing Charlie's leg and ribs. They came together nicely, which was a relief, because it meant that his assessment of them had been correct—that they were clean, simple breaks. He then made short work of splinting Charlie's right arm, a task he'd become far too proficient at during his final year at Hogwarts.

Sipping on his tea, Charlie gave a grunt of approval. "Have to say, Longbottom, your plants do the trick. Not quite like a potion but damn impressive."

Neville took the compliment to his skills as the peace offering it was and gave Charlie a small smile.

"Sleep. We'll figure out how to get out of here in the morning." Charlie was asleep before Neville finished his sentence.

Neville shook his head and began returning the supplies to his satchel. After a little water, a nip of whiskey, and a small snack, he prepared himself a soft spot on the blanket to lie, as well. He reminded himself again that no matter how annoying Charlie Weasley was, he still deserved saving. Everyone deserved saving. Even after the war, after everything Neville had seen, everything he'd experienced, he still believed that with all his soul. He also believed that there was much more to Charlie than what he'd seen so far. Having known Charlie's brothers, having seen their strength and good hearts, Neville couldn't believe that Charlie was as bad as he came across. Even in the midst of this ordeal, Charlie had willingly reassessed his preconceptions and trusted someone he barely knew, which showed perhaps more faith in Neville than Neville might have thought. It certainly didn't help that Neville found the expressions on Charlie's face infuriating and frustrating, even when they were maybe not deserving of such emotion. That, Neville had to allow, was his own fault, his own insecurities, his own irritation at being so flustered by cocky grins and sharp but guileless blue eyes. Perhaps Charlie was not quite as rotten as he appeared.

For his own part, Charlie's mind would change as well. If Neville's concern, confidence, and capability were not enough to convince him that first evening, the next day as they traversed back to camp definitely would. Charlie would struggle on his newly-mended leg, trying to maintain balance on precarious footings and steep inclines with one arm in a sling. Neville would stun a pair of wolves, pull Charlie out of the line of a dangerous rock slide, and navigate them safely home. Appearances could be deceiving and Charlie's thoughts on Neville would be shifting dramatically, rather more dramatically than either of them would ever have expected. 


End file.
